


The Fall

by wheel_pen



Series: Darkwood Eastport [9]
Category: Lie to Me (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fish out of Water, Magic, Polygamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 23:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3627750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The contrast between the Valley and Eastport is brought into sharp relief when young Sophia stumbles in town and skins her knee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fall

**Author's Note:**

> The bad words are censored; that’s just how I do things. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe. I’ve given a lot of thought to the Darkwood culture, so if something seems confusing, feel free to ask. I hope you enjoy!

_Year one, early fall_

It was early autumn in Eastport, Maine, an intermittently sunny day with a biting breeze that smelled like the sea and brought the sound of crying gulls far into town. Eli hadn’t experienced much of the sea before now and found it endlessly fascinating—the geographic feature, of which most humans would see only a small part, held a vast place in the local culture as an object of both fear and devotion. Eli thought he could get several essays out of the topic for the Darkwood Valley psychology journals.

Right now, he was just hoping to get lunch. If he had been alone he would’ve been at the Black Swans’ diner by now, but he was instead with a little girl whose eager and curious gaze took in everything around her and thus required a slower pace. Sophia had lightly golden skin and dark, curly hair—there was no doubt who her mother was, or her father either unfortunately, as Americans found it difficult to resist commenting on the resemblance. Such remarks were taboo in Darkwood culture; they were all supposed to pretend that the head of the clan was father to all the children, unlikely as that might be.

No, not pretend, Eli corrected himself; when he had railed against the custom years ago, before he had even married into the Orange Light clan, Cal had explained that it wasn’t deceit but rather a way of showing respect to the head of the clan. He was, symbolically, the father and protector of them all, like Catholics called priests ‘Father’ as a title of respect. Of course Eli was Jewish and had grown up hating the ‘Little Father,’ the Tsar who had persecuted all the downtrodden in his empire.

Now he felt he’d come to terms with the idea—mostly—he wouldn’t have married Cal and Gillian if he hadn’t. Eli believed in complete honesty, after all—but he also understood the purpose of symbolism, and its limits. So he felt comfortable with Cal’s role as father to all the children. Comfortable enough.

Sophia, at seven, was not old enough to worry about any of this. She walked down the wooden boardwalk confidently, her hand clasped in Eli’s, her dark curls bound up in a dark red ribbon that matched her new wool coat with the white (fake) fur at the collar and cuffs. She stroked it absently with her free hand when she wasn’t pointing out such novelties as trash cans, mailboxes, and litter to Eli and wanting explanations for them.

And then, quite suddenly—Sophia tripped and fell. She had let go of Eli’s hand to trot up to a bicycle leaning against the wall, caught the toe of her shoe on an uneven board, and down she went on her hands and knees.

Eli ran to her immediately. “Sophia! Are you okay?” He put her back on her feet and looked her over. There was a little blood on her knee where she’d skinned it. “Sophia?”

Her expression was one of shock at first. But now she saw the blood on her knee, and she was embarrassed about falling down, and she’d gotten dirt on her new coat and—Her pretty face scrunched up and she started to cry.

Eli looked around for help and saw that they were near the diner, so he scooped her up, careful not to get blood on his own clothes. Now Sophia cried even more with embarrassment, because she was a big girl who shouldn’t need to be carried like a baby. And everyone was going to stare at her. She buried her face against Eli’s shoulder.

He entered the diner, disturbing the bell above the door, and caught Alice Black Swan’s eye. “Oh what’s wrong?” she asked sympathetically, hurrying over.

“A little accident,” Eli told her. “Would it be alright if we used your—“

“Of course, come with me,” Alice agreed immediately, leading him through the back of the diner and up the stairs to the Black Swan clan apartments. The clan didn’t have any children yet and had decided to live in the relatively small space located conveniently above their business—for now, anyway. Alice pointed out a bathroom to him. “There you go. Use whatever you want. There’s some, uh—that _first aid kit_ Edward’s father insisted we have is under the sink,” she added dubiously. “Or should we call for a doctor?”

Alice had grown up in the Valley, where first aid was unnecessary. Eli had grown up outside it and knew what to do for a skinned knee. “No, thank you, we’ll be fine,” he told her, lowering the toilet lid and setting Sophia down on it. “Come on, it’s alright, sweetie.”

“I’d better get back downstairs,” Alice worried. “Let me know if you need anything!”

Eli took off his coat, then knelt on the floor in front of Sophia, examining her wound. “It hurts!” she complained tearfully. “It sort of—burns! Or tingles.”

“Oh, I don’t think it’s very bad at all,” Eli assured her. He damped a washcloth and carefully dabbed the excess blood away, revealing the shallow scratches that had almost stopped bleeding anyway. Then he took out the first aid kit and found the disinfectant liquid—good old-fashioned rubbing alcohol. “Now this is going to sting,” he warned Sophia, “but the sting means it’s working and it’s going to make you better, okay?” She nodded and he poured some of the pungent liquid on a piece of gauze and, with some trepidation, pressed it over her knee.

Sophia wailed in what Eli hoped was a stress-induced exaggeration of her pain. Dr. White Stag wanted them to use rubbing alcohol instead of the pain-free antibiotic creams because they hadn’t yet determined who might be allergic to the drugs, unfortunately. Eli well remembered that rubbing alcohol—and its field counterpart, vodka—had quite a bite.

“Can I be of assistance to you, milord?” asked a mild voice, belonging to a bland servant in Black Swan regalia.

“You let me fall!” Sophia accused, before Eli could speak. “I got hurt!”

The servant cocked his head to the side and looked at her curiously, as though he were contemplating her complaint. “It’s not his fault, sweetie,” Eli explained, as he unpeeled a bandage. “When we’re outside, in town, there’s no servants to help us. There’s servants everywhere at home and at other Darkwood houses, but not in other places.” This was a difficult concept to understand for people who had spent their whole lives in the Valley. “Remember? We talked about this.”

Sophia nodded slowly. “I didn’t know I would get hurt!”

“Well, that’s why we have to be careful,” Eli reminded her, standing up. “But you weren’t _very_ hurt, were you?”

Sophia poked at the bandage over her knee and he tsked her. “I thought it hurt a lot,” she judged. “And this thing is ugly and crinkly!”

“You’ll heal in a day or two,” Eli assured her, “and then we can take it off. But you must leave it alone until then.”

“My coat is dirty,” Sophia added, a bit sullen now as the adrenaline slipped away.

“Perhaps I could clean it for you while you have lunch downstairs,” the servant offered, and Eli thought he saw the tiniest trace of guilt on the man’s face. But that must have been his imagination, because the servant wasn’t a real person with real emotions, after all.

“Yes, thank you, let’s do that,” Eli agreed, and Sophia hopped to her feet and let the man remove her coat. Her green dress fell below her knee, covering the bandage completely. “See? No one can even see it.”

“It itches,” she pointed out as he took her hand and led her back downstairs.

“Leave it alone,” Eli repeated firmly. “Now, first we have to find Lady Bella and greet her, because we didn’t do that before.” He hoped he hadn’t breached any etiquette rules. “Then we can have lunch.”


End file.
